Recover
by Merthallum
Summary: SPOILERS! DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT FINISHED THE MAZE RUNNER TRILOGY! Continuation of The Death Cure from Minho's POV. Minho takes on the responsibilities of being the leader of the Immunes, and is cursed with flashbacks of his lost friend, Newt.
1. Chapter 1

Minho sat staring on the ground. This was it. It was over. All of it. The maze, the trials, WICKED; everything. He didn't know quite what to think of it. He almost couldn't believe it. After all they'd been through, it was over. His mind flashed through memories of the Glade. It seemed so peaceful compared to all the klunk he'd been through in the past couple of weeks. Had it only been weeks? Only weeks since they had escaped the maze… and only weeks more since he'd heard the siren out in the maze announcing the new Greenie - the last Greenie? It didn't feel quite right. Nothing felt quite right anymore. He had lost too much in too short a time. He had lost the best friend he'd ever had.

Newt. He tried to resist thinking about him, but the memories came flooding back.

Minho has just come back from mapping his day's journey in the Map Room. It's time for some food. He goes to find some scraps left over from Frypan's dinner that day and sits down to eat. Something is off. Newt's not there. Newt always eats with him. Why isn't he here?

Minho sets aside his food to go find him and make sure he's alright. He heads over to the Homestead first and bumps into Alby on his way.

"Hey," Minho says, "You seen Newt?"

Alby looks at the ground for a second, then back up at him. "Guess you haven't heard yet. The shank climbed up one of the bloody walls today and jumped off. Tried to kill himself. Luckily I was able to find him quick enough to haul him back to the Med-jacks."

Minho stares at Alby in disbelief. "You went out into the Maze to find him?"

"The guy was in a funky mood this morning, and I was concerned about him, so I went looking for him in the maze. Lucky I did or he'd be dead as a doorknob." Alby pauses, looking a little distraught. "Guess this place was just driving him crazy."

Minho can't believe it. His friend - his best friend - tried to kill himself today.

"Sorry, man." Alby grunts. He stares at Minho for several seconds, but Minho remains silent. Just as Alby turns to walk away Minho finally speaks up.

"Where is he?"

"Saw him limp off into the woods. Go chase after him if you want but I got stuff to do."

Minho is starting to get very aggravated with Alby. "Why are you acting like nothing happened today? Like it was just a...minor annoyance!"

"Yeah, well, I like Newt just as much as anyone else in this bloody place. He's my friend too. But we can't have people jumping off of the bloody walls if we want to survive out here. Especially not people as important as Newt! With his leg in the condition it's in, I doubt he'll ever be able to run again which means we just lost our keeper of the runners. Probably one of our most important positions, which means that Nick and I have a lot things to put back in order before things can go back to normal. So I'm sorry if I'm hurting your _feelings_," he stresses this word mockingly, "but I have got some more important things to worry about." And with that he turns and walks away, leaving Minho even more frustrated.

Minho immediately heads for the woods

Minho doesn't have to look long for Newt. He knows just where to find him. It's always the same place. The light outside is very dim, and when he steps into the woods, darkness engulfs him. He can vaguely see the figures of the trees, but he knows the place well enough to know where he's going. When he reaches the graveyard, he is not surprised to see Newt sitting in the middle, curled up tight with his head hung low. He can see the silhouette of his shoulders move up and down in short repeated spasms. He's crying.

Minho approaches him and sits down next to him. As he gets up close he can see a shape of a cast on his leg; he guesses it was the one he had landed on when he...fell. They sit in near silence for a while as Minho stares ahead, listening to his friend quietly sob next to him. Seeing Newt like this made him upset. It's not fun to watch your friend suffer. Finally, partly out of genuine frustration, partly out of desire for his friend to stop crying, Minho speaks up. "This place really is shucked up."

Through his tears, Newt laughs. "You don't say." He shakes his head and looks up at Minho. His eyes seem lost in thought, as though he is pondering something that is troubling him. "Minho, do you…" he pauses, like he is trying to decide if he really wants to finish what he started to say. "Do you think we'll ever make it out of this shuck place?"

Minho doesn't answer him. He can't. Because ultimately he doesn't know the answer to Newt's question, and he is scared of the answer. Making it clear he wishes to change the topic, Minho says, "What'd you go jumping off the bloody walls for anyway? Seems kinda stupid seeing as we're all just trying to survive out here."

"Survive." Newt repeats. "Survive! That's bloody it, man! I don't wanna just survive. That's not what life's supposed to be like! Life is supposed to be more than that. Not living in a bloody rat cage!" He starts to raise his voice louder "I'll bet whoever put us here is just laughing their bloody arse off right now! I'll bet they got their family and friends with them! They probably think it's all a joke, don't they? DON'T THEY!?" He shouts the last bit at the sky as if he expects them to hear him. "Who do they think they are, ruining our lives like this?" Then he says quietly, "Not that I know what life is actually supposed to be like. The only kind of life I know is life here in the Glade." He resentfully looks up at the walls as if it is their fault he's here. "I lost all my friends and family the day I arrived here."

Minho is a little taken aback by that last remark, and hurt. "Look, man, you got me. And I'll be shucked if I'm not your friend."

Newt lowers his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. You are my friend. The probably the closest one I've got. It just makes you wonder what you had before you got here. Who's missing you on the other side?"

"Well," Minho responded, "we could sit around and wonder about that. Wonder who loved us, what we lost, all that klunk. We could. But where would that get us? We got more important things to worry about, and worryin' about klunk like that ain't getting us nowhere. It just makes us upset and want to throw ourselves off of these shuck walls. And it certainly ain't gonna help. I think maybe you should just stop worrying about things you can't control and focus on the things you can. You certainly put us in a big mess today seeing as we just lost our Keeper of the Runners."

Newt looks back at the ground, tears threatening to come back as they rest on his lower eyelid.

"Look," Minho says, trying his best to comfort his friend, "maybe you will know someday, what you had before. Maybe you will get to see your family again. Maybe you'll wonder what the hell you were thinking settling for me as a best friend,"

Newt laughed. "I still don't know what I'm thinking settling for you as a best friend."

Minho chuckles and punches him in the arm.

"Ouch!" Newt gasps. "You know, I did fall off a shucking wall today; you might wanna try to be a little more careful."

"Aww, do you want me to kiss your booboo and make it go away?" Minho says mockingly, and smiles.

"Yes, yes I would." Newt says, and smiles back.

Then Minho pulled Newt into a warm, tight hug - something he saved only for very special occasions. "I say we head back to the Homestead and get some rest tonight."

Quietly, Newt replies, "Good that."


	2. Chapter 2

"Minho!"

Realizing that he was sitting in a curled-up position on the ground, Minho stretched out his legs and looked up to see Thomas running toward him. Quickly Minho stood up and approached Thomas, who had reduced his pace to a slow trot. "What's up?" asked Minho, curiously.

"What's _up?"_ Thomas repeated. "We've been looking all over for you! You just disappeared six hours ago! Where did you go?"

A little shocked that he had been away for hours but trying to keep his cool, Minho responded, "I was just trying to get a way for a bit. I had a lot of responsibility put on me the hour we stepped through that flat trans and I needed to get away. I ran up here to the woods to get a bit of rest."

"Well people need you back at the Shore. The group of hunters are about to leave, and you're supposed to be in charge of the hunt."

"Yeah, yeah, I got it. I'm coming." Minho gave Thomas a subtle glare. Not that Thomas had done anything wrong, he was just unfortunate enough to be responsible for the end of Minho's much-needed rest. They walked back across the hills to the Shore, where most of the immunes that had made it through the Flat Trans had settled down and created a community. Minho found his way to the group of hunters who were all sitting, looking a bit worried. When the group of about twenty people saw him, their faces flushed with relief and collectively stood. Minho spoke up before anyone could say anything. "Alright, since we gotta get this done quickly so we can get on to hunting, I'm going to separate you into groups of two, from there I will assign you areas to cover and we'll get going ASAP."

"Where were you?" A girl Minho's age had spoken up. Minho observed that she was one of the girls from Group B. Her long, blonde, wavy hair was held up in a tight pony-tail. She was well-muscled for a teenage girl and one of her hands was rested on her hip and the other one held a spear that was planted in the ground as she stared at Minho skeptically. Minho had a flashing thought that she slightly resembled Newt. He pushed the thought away.

"My business is my own." Minho spat back at her, rather annoyed by the question.

"No one's business is their own here, seeing as we're a very small and dependent community," the girl retorted.

Minho was getting impatient. "Look, we don't have time for your little interrogations, alright? Let's just split off and leave." Relieved that the girl didn't push any further, Minho proceeded to separate the group into two's, taking care not to put the girl in his group.

There was little noise as he separated the hunters-to-be, which was a relief to Minho. He teamed himself up with a short but well-built man who looked like he had a bit of experience in the hunting sport. The last thing Minho wanted was to deal with someone who didn't know what they were doing.

Minho spoke up once more before they left. "Alright, people. There's twenty of us and over two hundred people to feed, so for the sake of everyone, please don't come back with nothing. Make sure to try to be back by seven o' clock. That being said, get lost slintheads!" Unexplainably, aggravation overcame Minho as a smile flashed across the girl's face at that last sarcastic comment. He couldn't pinpoint what it was, but something about her put him on edge.

With one last wave at the group, Minho bolted toward the forest and could see the stout, muscular man following right behind him in the corner of his eye. Running through the field of hills sent a rush of excitement through Minho. The air hit his ears and dug into his eyes as he broke through the tearing wind. Adrenaline flooding his body, he sprinted towards the woods as fast as his legs could carry him, forgetting that someone was supposedly following him. When he reached the borderline of the woods, he slowed to a halt and rested his hands on his knees as he gasped for air. Looking behind him he saw the short man running towards him, obviously having strained himself to complete exhaustion trying to match Minho's impassible speed. Minho thought he looked ridiculous, running like that with his short, stubby legs. When he reached Minho, he collapsed to the ground, wheezing like a pig.

"What the hell was that, man?" He practically shouted at Minho. "Not everyone here is as super-model fit as you, man. I just completely exhausted myself trying to keep up with you out there. Maybe next time try to be a bit more considerate of the people around you?"

Minho glared at the man but didn't respond to him; partly because he knew the guy was right and didn't want to humiliate himself in front of the person he was supposed to be in charge of (well, he didn't want to be humiliated in front of anyone for that matter), and partly because he just didn't want to waste their precious time arguing with him about it, even though every inch of his instinct ached to make some pointless, sarcastic remark.

"Lets just get this hunting business over with and go home." Minho settled. They walked deeper into the woods for half an hour, setting up traps along the way, before they decided to take a break and sit quietly, waiting for game to come along. Neither man said anything to the other; neither man had any desire to talk. As they sat in complete silence, Minho had another flashback of the Maze. Of Newt.

"What are we waiting here for, shank?"

"Just shut the shuck up and wait, slinthead."

"We've been waiting for ten minutes. At least just tell me what you dragged me out here to see"

"I can't. You just have to see it."

Newt crosses his arms and leans back on the large concrete wall that is placed somewhere in the middle of the Maze and abides to waiting as Minho asked. Today is their third day living in the Glade, and already, through the chaos and confusion, the small group of men that arrived in the Box already managed to pull themselves together and organize some sort of system. Minho, who has been chosen as the first Maze scout, is proving to have a very interesting first day.

Newt sighs out of impatience. "Will you at least give me a vague idea of what I am taking a large chunk out of my day to see?" He asks, unmistakably irritated.

Reflectively, Minho exhales, then looks around as if to make sure no one is there. "You know those weird noises we heard on the first night and last night? Those strange clanging sounds and whirring noises?" Newt gives a nod of confirmation. "Well I think I found the source of it all."

Newt somehow generates a face composed of shock, worry and calm all at once. "The source? Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Newt looks thoughtful, pondering what Minho said. He takes a breathe in and opens his mouth as if to say something but right then Minho silences him.

"Do you hear that?" he practically whispers.

"Hear what?"

"Listen."

Newt cocks his head, listening. Far away, a sound that vaguely resembles the noises that were right outside their "doors" just last night reverberate through the walls of the Maze. "What is it?" He asks, looking quite mesmerized.

"C'mon!" Minho says, grabbing Newt's hand and running toward it.

Newt suddenly stops, pulling his hand away. "What are you doing?"

"You need to see this thing up close!"

"No way! There is no way I am running _toward_ whatever...thing...is making that noise!"

Minho is getting aggravated. "C'mon. It's not gonna hurt you. You seriously need to see this.

Newt sighs, obviously accepting his inevitable fate and whispers, "Fine."

Minho instantly runs off, making sure that Newt is closely following. They run for about a half a mile before Minho slows down; the noises are getting closer. They are practically tip-toeing through the maze when Minho finally stops before the turn of a corner. He can tell that the creature, or whatever it is, is just on the other side of the wall. He slowly peeks around the corner and sure enough, there it is. The ugly beast that is producing just-as-ugly noises. Minho motions with his hand to Newt to come look.

Newt steps forward and imitates Minho's cautious peeking technique. He only looks for a second before pulling back, a look of complete shock covering his face. Minho can almost guess Newt's next words before they exit his mouth. "What the bloody hell is that thing?"

Minho instantly puts up a finger to his mouth, instructing Newt to be quiet, but it is too late. Minho can hear a slight shift in the buzzes and clanks and he is worried that the creature heard Newt. Minho looks back around the corner to see what it is doing, and when he does, complete dread pummels at his stomach. Large, metal spikes have protruded from the monster's rubbery skin, and it has changed courses.

It is advancing straight toward them.

Without thinking, Minho grabs Newt's hand and turns into a freaking cheetah running away from the strange, indefinable beast. He can sense Newt following right behind him. Luckily, Minho thoroughly remembers the path they took on their way to the creature from which they were now running. Almost seconds after they start running, the sounds of the creature decrease in volume and Minho knows they are gaining ground. Minho takes a left, two rights, a left and one more right and he can see the door to the glade just yards away. By now, all traces of the beast were gone, and the only sound he could hear was that of him running.

That's when he realizes it. At some point in the race, Minho let go of Newt's hand, and he recognizes with shock that Newt isn't behind him anymore. He is nowhere to be seen.

Minho immediately stops in his tracks. "NEWT!" He calls out, hoping beyond hopes that Newt might make a sound, revealing his position. No response. Minho panics. Even though they have only been here for a couple of days, Minho has taken a genuine liking to Newt, and he is the closest thing he has to a friend. He can't lose him now; not on his account. "NEWT!" He calls again. Again, no response. He can hear footsteps coming from the direction of the Glade. When he turns around, he can see Nick and Alby running up to him.

"What's going on here?" Nick asks firmly. Nick was chosen when they arrived to be the leader of the group, and Minho thinks he's doing his job well so far.

Minho is having a hard time breathing, but he speaks in between breaths."I took Newt out to look at something…. It was the thing that has been... making those weird noises at night… Long story short, it ended up chasing us... and I bolted back here...but Newt got separated somewhere along the way."

Nick keeps his calm and says matter-of-factly, "Well then, we need to send out a search party for him, just make sure everyone gets back here before the walls close."

Within ten minutes, Nick has a group of six people including himself, Alby, and Minho out searching for the lost Newt. They decide to split up to cover more Maze area.

Within forty-five minutes, Newt is found. But with the satisfaction of finding Newt, comes the punishment of the disturbing the Grievers.


	3. Chapter 3

Minutes ticked by as Minho sat alongside the short man, waiting for some game to show up. He realized that he didn't know the guy's name, but he didn't dare ask, in case any game nearby would hear him run away. Also because he wasn't really in the mood. Minho was getting angsty, just sitting there, perfectly still, doing nothing. Saying nothing. It was torturous. When he had been a runner, he was always on the move. Always active. He would have to adjust to this new way of living. It was different. From the moment he had arrived at the Maze, he was imperatively intimate with action. Adventure. Excitement. Here it was different. Completely different. There were no grievers threatening to pounce on him at every turn, there was no WICKED constantly trying to hunt him down. There were no Cranks persistently chasing after him. It was peaceful.

Then Minho realized something he thought would never be possible.

He missed it.

He missed the danger, the thrill, the action. All of it. He didn't just miss it; he craved it. For as long as he could remember, he had been trained to tolerate pain and practice endurance. Every cell in his body was built for it; not sitting around waiting quietly like a child in time out. It was agonizing.

Suddenly, Minho jumped up. He didn't fully know why, he just had the overwhelming impulse to do something other than sitting around waiting for some shuck game to show up.

"What the Hell are you doin', man?" asked the man with the unknown name.

"I'm tired of this. Let's just get back and see if we caught anything in the traps. It's getting late anyway."

The man produced a very skeptical glare, but when Minho made it clear that he wasn't changing his mind, he shrugged and picked up his bag, containing their hunting supplies.

"Here," Minho said, putting his hand out, "let me take that. You've been carrying it around this whole time, I'll carry it from here."

The man didn't hesitate to hand Minho the bag. The two of them headed home, making sure to retrace their path to pick up any successful traps they had set along the way. As they walked quietly through the woods, Minho asked the man a simple question that would ultimately make things a lot easier for him. "So, what's your name again?"

The man looked at him smiling, like he just realized that he had never actually told Minho his name. "The name's Jason. Most people call me Jay, though I'm not really sure why since Jason is a short name all by itself, and why people feel the need to shorten it baffles me, but it is what it is, I guess."

Minho laughed, probably for the first time that day. "Alright then, shank. Jay it is."

The rest of the trip back to the Shore was spent mostly in silence, and they found a few traps that had caught some goodies for them. At least they could say they wouldn't come back empty-handed. They were the first of the ten groups of hunters to return. They immediately brought their kill to the campfire, where several people that had taken the position of cooks were waiting for them. The small animals were immediately skinned and roasted. Since they had no fridge, they would have to instantly cook any food they brought home or it would go bad very quickly.

The next group to return was the one with the Girl. The one that had spoken up to Minho before they had left earlier that day. Her team hadn't been any more successful than his; all they brought back were a couple of small rodents. Still, at least it was something.

By the time all five groups got back, they had a collective kill of over a dozen rodents, three large turkeys, and two different groups had both managed to catch a deer. It wasn't much, but it was enough to feed the community with the help of some fruits and veggies. Dinner was held collectively at eight that night, and Minho took his usual seat next to Thomas and Brenda. Sitting a couple of yards away from them was the Girl. Oddly enough she was eating alone. Minho watched her curiously, wondering why she wasn't eating with some of her girlfriends or something. She glanced over in his direction and he quickly diverted his eyes to the campfire that was still blazing hotly. He wondered if she was still looking at him. He slowly turned his head back in her direction and saw that she was no longer looking at him, but she had a suspicious smile on her face. She looked back up at him, but this time he didn't look away. He stared her straight in the eye, attempting to intimidate her. She held her gaze.

He couldn't back down and look away. Not this time. He would look weak, and he couldn't let this girl think that he was weak. Not after the way she had talked to him today. Finally she dropped her glance back down to her plate full of food, and he was instantly filled with pride. Then she did something that was completely uncalled for. She picked up her plate and started walking toward him. _What was she doing?_

"May I sit here?" She asked, mockingly polite. Before Minho could conjure up a response she sat down on the ground right next to him. He didn't know how to respond to that. He didn't understand what she was doing. There had already been an unspoken agreement that they weren't friends. Or did Minho just have a hard time dealing with anyone who sassed him too much?

Newt had always sassed him around. In fact he was the one who was most sassy toward Minho of anyone.

The Girl spoke up. "My name's Helen. Well my real name is Sophia. Helen is the name WICKED gave me so it's the one all my friends know me by. Plus I prefer Helen. Sophia is just too… girlie."

Minho was still a bit unsure of what to say to her, so he just said the first thing that came to him. "I'm Minho." _That was kind of a stupid thing to say. She already knew that. Everyone knew that. Ugh._

"Yeah. You don't say." The girl said, immediately changing back to her sarcastic tone.

Minho immediately felt stupid for saying such an obvious thing. Wait, no. He couldn't feel stupid about this. About her. Especially over something as idiotic as this. "I was _just_ introducing myself, slinthead." he said, intentionally snotty.

Helen snickered and looked back at the campfire, appearing lost in thought. He still couldn't quite figure out what it was about her that was so unnerving to him. She spoke up again, changing the subject, if there ever was one. "Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if it wasn't for WICKED, for the Flare?"

Then Minho realized what it was about her that was so nerve racking. She reminded him of Newt. The way she wasn't afraid to be sarcastic towards him, the way she held herself, even her blond hair! And now she had just asked the same question that Newt would be asking if he were here with them, safe and sound. Minho once again tried to push out the thought of the vicious fate that awaited his friend, who could maybe even already be dead for all he knew. He unemotionally responded to the girl's question in a similar way he had once responded to one of Newt's questions. "I don't think we should worry about that sort of klunk. We get what we get and we have to make the best of it. You should stop spending your thoughts on the what if's and start focusing and the what are's."

Helen looked him straight in the eye. "Yeah," she said softly.

When the girl didn't look away, Minho, feeling a bit awkward, focused his attention on his food. He didn't really feel like talking to this girl anymore. Helen got the hint and returned to eating her own food. After dinner, Minho headed to the beach, where most people slept at night. Some prefered to sleep further away from the group, but the beach was the most comfortable place to sleep that they had at that point. He lay down in the sand and closed his eyes in an attempt to sleep. Instead, he was cursed with another terrible flashback.


	4. Chapter 4

Everything is chaos.

When Minho returns to the Maze, he sees that Newt has been found, and he is arguing with Nick about something.

"Just let me go in there!" Minho overhears Newt. "I got us into this bloody mess, now let me at least try to help."

"We don't need you going in there and making the situation worse."

"How could the situation possibly get any worse than it already is?"

Nick hesitates, then finally gives in. "You can have five minutes in there, but if anything goes wrong, you're coming out of that room immediately."

Without another word, Newt rushes over to the Homestead, and Minho, curious, walks over to Nick. "What's going on? What happened? Where's Newt going?"

Nick looks slightly annoyed, but answers Minho's questions, knowing Minho needs to know what is going on. He had a right to. "No one's quite sure what happened. Newt was found quickly enough after the search party was sent out, but we heard an ear-piercing scream soon after. When Newt and I headed towards the scream we found Vince lying on the ground, barely moving. We thought he was dead at first, but we saw that he was still breathing. We carried him back here and he's in the Homestead now. I didn't really want anyone but the Med-Jacks and myself dealing with him, but Newt insisted on seeing him. He thinks this is all his bloody fault." he gives a resentful look in the direction of the Homestead.

Minho is struggling to understand what Nick is saying. "Do you know what happened to him? Vince, I mean? People don't usually just drop dead like that."

"First of all, he's not dead." Nick gives Minho an edgy look. "And we think he was stabbed, or maybe stung by that weird creature. The Griever."

Minho gives Nick a questioning look. "Griever?"

Nick shrugs. "I don't know. It's what everyone's calling it."

"Why 'Griever?'"

"I don't know, they cause a lot of grief? Look, I didn't make up the name, okay. Anyways, there's an area on Vince's leg that is punctured and the veins are blackest there. We think that was where he was stung."

"Do you think there's any chance he's gonna survive?"

Nick looks saddened by Minho's question. "Unless we can miraculously find some magical cure, I don't think he has much of a chance."

Minho nods his head and looks down. He figures he should leave Nick alone now, since he probably has a million things he has to worry about right now, so he heads over to a tree that rests near the Box in which they had all arrived. Around the Box are several supplies that came with them at the arrival.

Minho can't figure out why the people that have sent them here sent them supplies as well. It's like they sent them to this prison for God-knows-why, but they want to make sure they are well-supplied in case God-forbid they can't help themselves. It makes no sense. Even some of the supplies they sent don't make sense. Some of them were immediately apparent, like the wood and the food and the weapons (although some people did wonder what the bow and arrows are for. What are they going to need to shoot?) but some of the other supplies are a mystery. Like the small bundle of paper and a small supply of pencils.

But the strangest and most unexplainable thing that was sent with them is a small briefcase. Inside the briefcase is a green syringe in a tube. There is no label on it. No explanation of what it is for. Just a small green syringe.

Then it hits Minho.

Minho jumps up, grabs the briefcase and runs to find Nick. He sees him making his way towards the Homestead. Minho races over to him, nearly bumping into Nick when he reaches him.

"What the -" Nick starts, but Minho cuts him off.

"I think we can save Vince."

"What are you talking about?"

Minho holds up the briefcase. "The serum. I think it's a cure for whatever is happening to Vince."

"Why do you think that?"

"It came here with all the other supplies without any explanation. What else could it be for?"

Vince looks doubtful. "So you think if we inject Vince with this serum he'll be all better again?"

"I think we should give it a try."

"What if it doesn't work? What if it kills him?"

"Look, we're not gonna know until we try, and from what you tell me, Vince is as good as dead if we don't do anything anyways."

Nick ponders what Minho said for a moment, then nods. "Okay, but if this doesn't work -"

"It will."

Skeptically Nick raises his eyebrows, then takes the briefcase and starts heading towards the Homestead. Minho follows after him. There is no way Nick is going to keep him from watching what is about to happen, and Nick doesn't try to stop him.

When they enter the Homestead and walk into the room that Vince is being held in, they see Newt kneeling on the ground beside Vince, and Minho glimpses a red and puffy nose before Newt turns his face away and visibly wipes his face on his shoulder sleeve quickly. He stands up and faces Minho and Vince, curious why both of them are there.

"Where did the Med-Jacks go?" Vince asks Newt.

"They left to find some medicines. They left me here in case he wakes up or something else happens."

"Did they say when they were gonna get back?"

"They said they would probably be away for a while." Newt glances at Vince, then looks back up at Nick. "I think they just wanted to get away from him."

Nick takes in a deep breath, then says quietly to himself, but just loud enough for Minho and Newt to hear, "Looks like we're gonna have to do this on our own."

Newt perks up. "Do what?"

"You know that weird syringe that came along with the rest of the supplies?"

Newt's opens his eyes the slightest bit wider. "Yeah?"

"Well, Minho here thinks that it's a cure for whatever poison the Griever stung Vince with."

Newt raises his eyebrows. "You really think it'll work?"

"We don't know, but we might as well try rather than sitting back and watching him slowly die."

Newt nods his head as Nick places the briefcase on the floor and pulls out the syringe. "I'm gonna need you to hold Vince down in case he struggles. I don't think he will, but in this place, you never know," he says to Newt.

Without delay, Newt kneels down next to Vince and pins down his shoulders and arms as Nick takes Vince's forearm and injects the syringe. As the needle sinks into his arm, the three watch intently to see if any change comes over him. After the needle is ejected, they continue to watch him, wondering when the serum will take effect.

Then suddenly and without warning, Vince starts writhing and screaming at a pitch Minho didn't know was possible until that moment. All three of them instantly raise their hands to their ears, and Minho can see panic and worry sink into Newt's expression, as he glances over to Minho and Nick, as if begging them for a solution.

The screams pulse as Vince thrashes about helplessly and Nick gives Minho a nasty look as if to say "this is all your fault." Minho knew that every person in the Glade could hear Vince's screams as they violently bounced off of every wall in the Maze.

The terrorizing howls echoed through Minho's head as he jerked himself awake, lying safely on the sand on the Shore, and he had to remind himself that he wasn't in the Glade anymore. That had happened years ago. He was safe now. There was nothing to worry about. He was, after all, free from all danger.


End file.
